


Jehanpunzel

by Doitlikeagreaser



Series: Les Mis Disney AUs [1]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe, Based on Tangled, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Jehanparnasse - Freeform, Les Amis de l'ABC - Freeform, M/M, Marisette - Freeform, Multi, Other, Patron-Minette - Freeform, Tangled AU, enjoltaire - Freeform, jbm - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-20 12:37:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 12,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19992337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doitlikeagreaser/pseuds/Doitlikeagreaser
Summary: All Jehan has ever known is the little tower he lives in and the company of his guardian, Madame Thénardier and his chameleon companion, Courfeyrac. What he wants to know his the mysterious lights that always pop up on his birthday.All Montparnasse has ever known is a life of crime and fleeing with his gang of criminals. And that's all he wants to know.When fate--or a horse--brings this "unlikely" pair together, the law; a tavern of revolutionaries; and magic, flower-powered hair will make this a parody to remember.





	1. Once Upon a Time

**Author's Note:**

> Posting for a friend. Please enjoy this wonderful AU. Feedback is much appreciated.

Long ago in a faraway kingdom, lived a king and queen who happily ruled over their kingdom. Eventually the pair decided to have a baby. But the queen, being very weak, struggled in having the baby. She was running out of time to be saved, so the royal guards were all sent to look for something to help.

There was a common legend in the land, of a magical flower that could heal the sick and injured, and make the old young again. But this flower was safely guarded by Madame Thenardier, who was a very old woman, but using the flower’s magic, had retained a youthful appearance.

Soon, a royal guard noticed the glowing flower, and alerted his fellows, and they brought the flower to the castle, where it was brewed into a tea that was given to the queen. The healing power worked, and soon the royals had a healthy baby son, who they named Jehan. He had bright eyes and pretty blond hair, much unlike his mother and father’s darker blonde. To celebrate the successful birth of their son, the royals launched a flying lantern into the air.  
But their joy was short-lived. Madame Thenardier had received the news bitterly. Without the flower, her youth was fading fast. There was only one thing to do.

She snuck into the royal chambers swiftly and silently, past the king and queen. There, in the cradle, slept tiny baby Jehan. But before stealing the child, she had to know the powers were still of use.

Very quietly, as to not wake the family, she began to chant an odd poem that worked like a spell, channeling the magic. The sleeping child’s hair began to glow with a radiating light as Madame lifted him out of his bed. She could already feel the healing powers fixing her as she slipped away into the night.

In the morning, the king and queen were devastated that their only son had been stolen. They searched everywhere, but they couldn’t find little Jehan. Eventually they were forced to give up their search. They had to content themselves with flying lanterns much like the one they launched on Jehan’s first birthday every year on the same day.

Jehan was locked away into a tower in the woods, with only Madame Thenardier for company, where she raised him as her own. Anytime she need to be rejuvenated, she only had to ask him, and he would always consent to saying the chant.

“Madame,” he asked one day as she brushed his long hair, which it turned out couldn’t be cut otherwise losing its power, “Why can’t I go outside?”

“The world, my Flower,” Madame said, running her fingers through the pretty blond hair, “Is full of dangerous people who would try to cut off your hair, and you’d have no powers left in the world. Do you understand?”

Little Jehan looked out the window sadly, feeling no other purpose but his hair, and responded quietly, “Yes, Madame.”


	2. Chapter 2

But the walls of a tower wouldn’t keep out the mysterious floating lights that were released with suspicious accuracy on Jehan’s birthday. When he was twenty-one, he decided once and for all, that he would request to go out and see them in person. He wanted to see the world. His only friends were Madame and Courfeyrac, a small chameleon who evidently couldn’t talk, and his only pleasures were looking out the window, writing poetry, playing flute, and growing flowers.

“Jehan! Jehan! Let down your hair!” came the familiar cry from out the window. Jehan jumped up from writing his line, and hooked his hair on a hook put there by Madame, and let out the long golden rope. He kept it braided so it would stay neater, but it always came undone.

“Madame, I was wondering, tomorrow’s a big day-”

“Mon fleur, I’m feeling a bit down today, would you chant for me, dear?” Madame said wearily. Jehan quickly handed her a piece of his hair and began reciting off the poem far too fast, stunning Madame for a moment.

“So, Madame, I told you that tomorrow’s a big day, and you didn’t respond, so I figure you didn’t know, so… it’s my birthday!” Jehan said excitedly. Even if he had one hundred of them, he’d still look forward to it. “So, I kind of wanted to let you know before it was too late… what my… birthday wish is?” he looked over into the corner, where Courfeyrac was giving him a tiny thumbs-up of encouragement. “I wanted to see the floating lights in person!” he said quickly.

“You mean stars?” Madame asked, even though she knew exactly what Jehan was talking about.  
“Well, I mean, I see them every year, and these possible stars only show up on my birthday, and I feel like they’re meant for me. So I think I should see them in real life.”

“You want to go outside? Jehan, you have no idea what’s out there. You know we stay here to keep you safe.” Madame stroked Jehan’s hair.

“I know.”

“There are thieves, murderers, diseases, poisons, slavery, prostitutes-”

“Prostitutes? Why is it always prostitutes?” Jehan wondered.

Madame closed the window, plunging the room into darkness.“-Quicksand, knives, poison ivy, cannibals, snakes, large bugs, The like.” 

When she lit a candle, Jehan’s face was pale, and his knees were shaking. 

“You see? There’s so much hatred in the world, you would never survive the trip,” Madame said simply, turning back to the basket of food she had brought. “Listen to Madame, darling. You simply cannot go out there. Understand?” Jehan nodded vigorously. “Good. Now, are you hungry?”

“Well, no, I don’t think I am, I’m sorry,” Jehan apologized softly, backing away and retreating to his room in fear. Courfeyrac followed him in.

“Courfeyrac, I really wanted to go out there, but I guess it’s too dangerous for anyone. But why does Madame handle it so well?” Courfeyrac shrugged. He didn’t know either.


	3. Chapter 3

Montparnasse, Babet, Claquesous, and Gueulemer slid quickly down the side of the castle. They didn’t have all day to be hanging out on the roof, but Montparnasse scooted out to see the view.

“Wow, look at that view. I could get used to this.” He paused for a moment, letting it all sink in. “Yeah, I’m used to it. Guys, I think one day I’ll have to buy a castle.”

Babet sneered. “We do this job. You can buy your own castle.” The other two grabbed Montparnasse and tied a rope around his waist, then lowered him quickly down into the relic room in the palace.

A guard sneezed. “Bless you,” Montparnasse said with a smirk, resting his elbow on the pedestal where Prince Jehan’s crown awaited him in a cocky manner.

“Thanks,” The guard responded, sniffling. Suddenly he whipped around and aimed his crossbow behind him, but Montparnasse was already out of sight with the crown. The four criminals ran for the woods as quickly as they could.

Though they were in the crosshairs of a manhunt, Montparnasse couldn’t help small talk with his accomplices. “Can you picture me in a castle of my own? Because I can see it. Imagine, all this excitement before eight o’clock in the morning. Gentlemen, this is a special day!”

The group stopped to rest under a tree. “No, no, no, why do I never get a good picture on these wanted posters? And they always spell my name wrong on top of it!”

“Who cares?” Claquesous snapped, adjusting his boot against the tree. The tree let out a scraping sound of protest as he slid his foot back to the ground.

“Easy for you to say, you guys look fabulous, as always, and your names never get spelled wrong.” Montparnasse took a closer look at his picture, and pulled the poster off the tree.

“How’d they spell it this time?” Guelemer asked, looking around the tree to see if anyone was coming.

Montparnasse held up the poster reluctantly. The poster read, “WANTED: Montparsnip, Eighteen years of age, wanted dead or alive.” The picture was an unflattering caricature of him, with his nose too long, his eyes too big, and his lips flared. The others laughed and Montparnasse stuffed it in his pocket. “See? It’s stupid.”

“And you’re saying you don’t already?” Clasqueous laughed, then stopped. The rumbling of hoofbeats thundered toward them.

The quartet scurried through the woods as fast as they could, but screeched to a halt at a cliff. Montparnasse turned to the others. “Alright, give me a boost, and I’ll pull you up.”  
The others looked at each other. “Give us the crown bag first.”

“What? I just… I can’t believe through all we’ve been through together, you don’t trust me?” Montparnasse put on a false look of despair. His companions were unmoved. “Ouch,” he replied, dropping the precious bag into Guelemer’s hand.

The men made a human pile, standing on each other’s shoulders, and Montparnasse, the smallest of the four, climbed up the ladder. “Now help us up, pretty princess.”

“Sorry,” came the reply from above, “My hands are full.” Montparnasse waved the bag in front of their faces impishly, then took off at a sprint. He could hear them cursing at him still as rounded a corner and had to turn back because the royal guards were hot on his trail.

“We’ve got him now, Ponine,” the royal guard told his horse. She was a very pretty horse, with a black mane and tail, the rest of her a pale brown. Eponine gave a glare as if to say "Don’t call me Ponine," as they zoomed after their target.

Montparnasse was a very nimble fellow, and jumped right as the arrows were about to strike him.

But there did come a time when the guards were nearly on top of him and he had no other choice. He straddled a hanging vine and swung as hard as he could into the Captain of the guard and landed on his horse.

Eponine stopped abruptly when she realized her master wasn’t on anymore. She turned her head and saw the bag just within her reach. She lunged for it, but Montparnasse pulled it away. She began to dance in circles, much like a dog chasing its tail, trying to reach it. Finally she caught hold of it in her teeth and pulled. At the same time Montparnasse’s grip failed him, and the bag went flying onto a branch hanging over the edge of a bluff. The pair looked at each other in horror, then both bolted to save the bag from falling. After much wrestling, they both found themselves on the branch, but Montparnasse was closer. He swung out and caught it in his hand, and held it up teasingly in front of Eponine. Oh no you don’t, she thought, but this thought was replied with a sharp CRACK. The pair froze. The branch smashed off the ledge, with both passengers shrieks left in the leaves.

The branch hit a sharp point, cracking it in half. Eponine’s half smashed against the ground with thud. Eponine jumped up, and began sniffing around for Montparnasse’s scent. He couldn’t be too far away.

As soon as she had passed, he snuck out from behind the bush, and hurried behind a wall of ivy. And not a moment too soon, for Eponine was just about to walk by. He decided it wouldn’t be wise to leave just yet, seeing as she was still out there. Montparnasse tucked the bag under his arm and journeyed deeper into the cavelike area. To his surprise, where it let out was a clearing, and in the middle of that clearing was a very tall tower. The perfect hiding place. Montparnasse took out a couple of arrows he managed to grab off the trees when they had missed him and used them like climbing picks to scale the tower.

When he got to the top, he swung open the window and leaped inside, then closed the shutters again. “Ah,” he said to himself, taking the bag off and admiring his steal, “Alone at last.”

CLANG. Before he knew what hit him, Montparnasse was unconscious, flat on his face on the floor, at the hands of Jehan. After smacking him over the head with the nearest, heaviest thing he could think of--the tower wasn’t very well armed--a frying pan, Jehan darted behind the curtains in fear. Cautiously he poked his head out to get a better look.

“What is it?” he asked Courfeyrac, who was already sitting on the seat Montparnasse’s pants, looking very confused. He shrugged. “Is it… one of those things Madame was warning me about earlier?” He took the handle of the pan and pushed Montparnasse’s head to the side. His eyes were closed. “... Did I kill it?”

Just as Jehan said this, Montparnasse’s eyes flew open. On instinct Jehan whacked him again with his weapon.

“Okay, he is not dead, or at least he wasn’t,” Jehan said frantically, looking around the small room for an idea. If there was one thing that his books had taught him, it was that you had to hide the body. Finally he settled on a closet in the back. He lifted the limp man by the armpits and hoisted him in. after several failed attempts to load the man inside, finally the door latched with a satisfying click. Jehan backed away, holding the frying pan threateningly.

“I have a person in my closet, I have a person in my closet,” Jehan told himself and Courfeyrac, who looked impressed. Jehan caught a glance of himself in the mirror and grinned. “So, Madame, you think I’m not strong enough to handle myself? Well, tell that to the frying pa--ow,” he said, rubbing the side of his face where he accidentally hit himself with the same frying pan. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a glint of sparkle.

He turned his focus to the brown bag on the floor, spilling its contents. He picked up the crown, and examined it, then stuck his arm through it like a bracelet. Turning to Courfeyrac, he asked, “Think it fits?” Courfeyrac shook his head, horrified at the suggestion.

“How about this?” Jehan set the crown on top of his head, then stopped at the mirror. “I don’t look half bad, huh?” His friend, however, was in surprise. That way looked amazing. For once his friend knew how to wear something nice without instruction. He just need a haircut.

“Jehan! Let down your hair!” Madame called from the bottom of the tower. Jehan grabbed the bag and crown and threw them into a pot and slammed on a lid.

“I have a big surprise!” Madame continued as she was pulled up.

“I do too!” Jehan called back, tugging at the long train of hair with anticipation.

“I bet mine is bigger!” Madame replied, almost to the top. Jehan and Courfeyrac looked at each each other with a look that meant I seriously doubt it.

“Oh, dear, I brought back parsnips, and I’m making soup for dinner! Surprise!” Madame announced, climbing through the window. A soft “Huh?” could be heard from inside the closet, and Jehan slammed his elbow into the door. It went silent.

“Well, Madame, I was thinking about what you said about the lights thing, and it turns out, you think I can’t handle myself-”

“Oh, I know you can’t,” she replied, not quite listening to his speech.

“But trust me, I have proof right--”

“Enough with the lights, Jehan. You are not leaving this tower.” Madame snapped at him. Jehan flinched, and cowered in the corner. “Great, now I’m the bad guy.”

“No… I-I thought of what I was hoping for my birthday now,” he said softly, feeling hot embarrassed tears forming in his eyes. Madame had never scolded him like that before.

“And what is that?” she asked tiredly.

“Um… some more flower seeds, like those ones you once got me that had the pretty blue flowers. I really liked those, and was hoping to grow more.”

“Well, that’s a very long trip. About two days, I wouldn’t be back until tomorrow night,” Madame said, then upon seeing Jehan’s eyes, she asked, “Are you sure you’d be alright alone that long?”

“I know I’m safe as long as I’m here,” Jehan replied, wiping his face. So Madame set back out to find those flowers. She left quickly after the conversation, and Jehan was soon again alone in the tower. He waved good-bye, then went to the closet and pulled out his victim. He tied him up in the easiest thing he had--his hair--into a wooden ladder-backed chair, and pulled him into the middle of the room.


	4. Chapter 4

Courfeyrac climbed up the man’s pants up his coat, then perched on his shoulder, and stuck his long chameleon tongue straight into his ear. 

“Ah! What the heck was that?” Montparnasse regained consciousness quickly, and looked around the room. All over the walls were written lines of poetry. He tried to stand, but his arms were tied down with “...Is this hair?”

“Struggling i-is pointless,” a voice from overhead called. 

Montparnasse tried to look around the corner, and noticed a small shadow moving. The shadow came closer, then into the light. It was a young man, with very, very long blonde hair. 

“Who are you, and how did you find me?” Jehan asked Montparnasse.

“Oh,” Montparnasse said in response, completely confused.

Jehan raised the frying pan threateningly. “Who are you, and how did you find me?”

Montparnasse cleared his throat dramatically. “I know not who you are, nor how I came to find you, but may I just say… Hello there,” his face spread into a flirtatious smirk. Even tied up he was shameless. “The name’s Montparnasse. How’s your day going?”

Jehan looked taken aback for a moment, then resumed his tough guy expression. “Something brought you here, Montparsnip,” he growled, adjusting his hold on the pan.

“It’s actually Montparnasse,” Montparnasse corrected him, “and what’s yours?”

“Jehan. But something got you to come here, call what you will, fate, destiny--”

“A horse with the misfortune of being called Ponine,” he interrupted. “I swear, I had no idea what was up here, I needed somewhere to go, saw a tower, and hid inside, not expecting to get assaulted with cooking ware.”

Jehan started to continue, but then stopped himself. “Wait, you don’t want my hair?”

“Why on earth would I want your hair? I would look revolting blond.” At Jehan’s confounded expression, he added, “It looks great on you, but I wouldn’t.” Montparnasse suddenly began looking around frantically. “Where’d you put my bag?”

“Somewhere you won’t find it,” Jehan said teasingly, smirking at his prisoner’s failing attempt.  
Montparnasse turned and saw it. “It’s in that pot, isn’t it?” CLANG.

He was aroused again by a long sticky tongue slapping his eardrum. Knocking Courfeyrac off his shoulder, he yelped, “Will you stop that?”

“Now it’s somewhere you won’t find it,” Jehan announced, climbing up to where the one painting he ever attempted was. It wasn’t very good, but it was of the floating lights he so loved. “Do you know what these are?” He asked Montparnasse. He nodded, not sure how else to respond. “Now, my associate and I--” he gestured to Courfeyrac “--have consulted while you were unconscious and made the unanimous decision to trust you.”

“That’s a really bad idea,” Montparnasse chuckled to himself.

“So the deal is, you take both of us to see these lights, and get us both home safely, then--and only then--will we release you and return that bag to you, all contents at the time of seizure included. Do we have a deal?”

“Sorry, Flower Child, but I can’t. Me and the kingdom aren’t exactly friends at the moment.”  
Jehan climbed back down off the shelf, stood in front of his prisoner, and pulled the train of hair so Montparnasse’s face was inches away from his. “You can take this place apart Brick by massive, 1832-made Brick, but without by help, you will not find your bag.”

Montparnasse sighed. “You leave me no choice, here it goes.Here comes the smolder.” He screwed up his face into a sad expression. “Today’s not been a great day for me, and I’d really like to--” Jehan remained unmoved. “Fine! I’ll take you!”

“Wait, really?” Jehan squeaked, accidentally dropping Montparnasse on his face. “Sorry.”

“You broke the smolder,” Montparnasse mumbled from the ground.

The pair decided upon using Jehan’s hair as a rope to get down. Montparnasse went first, being the guide. Then it was Jehan’s turn. Courfeyrac tied himself on, and Jehan jumped. Just before he hit the ground, he made a screeching halt. There, all in its green glory, was the grass. He lowered his foot gently into the mass of softness, then the other. He could feel his heart in his ears. He was actually outside the tower. He started looking around the area curiously. Montparnasse only snorted at Jehan’s excitement.

“So, where do you want to eat?” Montparnasse asked as they finally set off in the right direction. Jehan shrugged. “I’ve never been out here, I don’t know what our options are.”

“Oh! Well, there is a place you might like, L’ABC. Very quaint and relaxed, perfect for you! Wouldn’t want you getting scared all over the place on your first and maybe only outing.”

“Well, it sounds nice,” Jehan contemplated, thinking it over. “Okay, let’s go there, since you know the place.”

“Good, now let’s go,” Montparnasse pointed out the way to the small cottage-like building in the middle of the woods.


	5. Chapter 5

“Waiter! We’d like a table!” Montparnasse called dramatically, opening the door. 

Jehan gasped. Inside, there were several young men standing around staring at their unexpected guests. Intimidating, angry-looking men. He held up his pan--which he brought with him for cases like these--like a shield as Montparnasse guided him over to a table in the back of the room.

Suddenly, a strong, red-jacketed arm shot out and grabbed Montparnasse by the sleeve and moved him back toward the wall. Enjolras put his hand on a poster on the wall. “Is this you?” Montparnasse scooted Enjolras’s finger out of the way so he could read it better.

“Now they’re just being mean.” Under the picture was written in bold print, 'Mount-her-ass.'

“Oh, it’s him all right,” Bossuet replied, and Joly added, “That’ll be enough money for medical school.”

“What about me? I’m broke!” Grantaire shouted from the back of the room, completely drunk, as usual.

“Who cares about your empty pocket?” Enjolras shouted back, “there’s enough here to buy the guns and ammunitions for the revolution!” This sparked a furious fight over Montparnasse, who the entire time was trying to squirm away but with no luck.

“Gavroche! Get the royal guards!” At Feuilly’s call, Gavroche nodded and ran out the door.

“Let him go!” Jehan shouted at the rowdy group. Finally, he had enough and shoved a table into the middle of the group, knocking over several of the manic fighters. “Let him alone! I need him to act as a guide to see the floating lights I’ve dreamed about since I was small and I don’t know how to do it on my own. Haven’t any of you had a dream before?”

As he was speaking, Courfeyrac climbed down his arm and sat on the table. Combeferre was one of the unlucky fellows who was knocked over. 

“Hi there, small one,” he said, and Courfeyrac lifted the glasses that had fallen from Combeferre’s nose and set them down on his face. “Thanks,” was the reply, and Courfeyrac climbed onto his shoulder and settled there. “You’re friendly.” Combeferre began gently stroking the top of Courfeyrac’s head, and Courfeyrac nearly started purring, turning a bright shade of yellow.

Enjolras turned with a smoldering expression on his face, and stepped toward Jehan. Jehan backed up against the wall until there was nowhere else to go. Suddenly Enjolras smiled. “Sorry if I scared you, I’m just overzealous because we’re putting my dream into action.” Jehan cocked his head. “We’re making this kingdom a republic. The people have no representation, but we’re going to change that soon.”

Combeferre looked up from Courfeyrac, who was now sitting in his lap, the happiest chameleon in the world, speedily changing through all the colors of the rainbow. “And once we’re free, I’d like to write a book.” Courfeyrac sat up and his tail began to wag in interest.

“I’m going to be a doctor, if I can ever get the money,” Joly added, and Bossuet sighed, “I’d like to get some good luck one of these days, that’s be nice for a change.”

Musichetta, who no one had noticed until now, came up behind the pair of men and hugged them both. “And I’d really like for us three to be married soon, and have a nice big family with many kids.”

“I want to save the orphans!” Feuilly volunteered, swinging his arm around Bahorel who just took his hand quietly and kissed it.

Marius called from the back, holding a handkerchief to his nose, “I just want to see Cosette again!”

“I swear, when I get to be a doctor, I’ll find a cure for that malady,” Joly whispered to Jehan, and he laughed.

A loud crash came from a table in the corner. “No one ever talks to me about dreams! I have unrequited love to put up with! They will never return my affections because they’re too godlike for a useless drunk such as myself!” Grantaire called out, stumbling over holding a quart--not pint--of whiskey, and the smell told this wasn’t the first, or second. He downed the whole thing in seconds.

Combeferre noticed that Montparnasse was still standing in the corner, looking very put out. “Hey, Montparnasse! What’s your dream?” he called.

“Sorry guys, I don’t do support groups,” was the reply, which was responded with a collective death glare. “Okay, fine, I’d like to live on a mountain of my own, alone, with plenty of money so I don’t need to come down.” He held up his hands defensively.

“Wow,” Enjolras sarcastically began clapping for this unamusing confession. 

Montparnasse retreated to his corner seat with a frown on his face, and pulled his top hat down over his eyes.

At this time Gavroche shot into the tavern like a bullet. “I’ve got the guards! They’re right behind me! Don’t look like you’re doing anything illegal! Feuilly, hide that knife!” Feuilly dropped the dagger sadly into a drawer at the bar. “Hoped to use it against them or something.” Courfeyrac turned white and he gripped Combeferre’s hand, desperately not wanting to let go.

Javert, Captain of the guards, marched in, followed by his troops. His men were holding firmly to Montparnasse’s three accomplices. “I will find that Montparnasse if I have to turn the place upside down!” he shouted, slamming his fist down on the countertop Jehan, Courfeyrac--who had to to be pulled from Combeferre; the man he grew to love--and Montparnasse were hiding under. 

A hand nudged Jehan’s shoulder lightly, and Enjolras glanced toward the back of the tavern. Guiding the pair to the back, he pulled a lever in the floor and a secret passage opened quietly.

“Go, live your dream,” he said, pointing them down the ramp. Montparnasse nodded. Enjolras smacked him in the back of the head. “Not your dream. Yours stinks, I was talking to your friend here.” The recipient of this complaint rolled his eyes.

Outside the bar, unbeknownst to anyone, was Madame Thenardier. She had gotten back to the tower early and found Jehan gone, and panicked. He was all of her flower keeping her alive. Her one clue was a mysterious bag hidden under the stairs, full of a crown and a wanted poster. She followed the trail and wound up at L’ABC. 

It was Grantaire who discovered her outside, stumbling out stone drunk. He looked her up and down for a second, then grinned. “Someone find me a glass. Because I just found me a tall drink of water,” he smirked, attempting to appear attractive. 

Madame looked him up and down, and saw nothing beyond what she could see with her eyes, an unattractive drunk man who was clearly flirting with her. She then realized she could use him to her advantage.

“Oh, stop it, you flirt,” she laughed coyly, then drew a knife she had hidden under her cloak, holding it against Grantaire, who whimpered in fear. “Where’s the tunnel let out?”

“J-just to the w-waterw-works,” he stammered, his eyes huge and his voice small. 

She let go of him, pushing him into a bush. “That’s all I needed to know. Now get yourself sober before it kills you.” And she stalked into the bar and disappeared.

Grantaire felt his throat, just to be sure it wasn’t slit. “But I just told you what you asked--Never mind, no one appreciates the drunk,” he insisted to no one, and shook his head all the way back inside. As soon as he got there, he placed himself beside Enjolras, who was watching the guards search the place.

“Nothing here.” Suddenly the door slammed open, and in sniffed Eponine, who had been going around the forest all day hunting for Montparnasse. She followed the smell through the bar, and stopped at the lever. She put her hoof down and the trapdoor opened.

“A passage,” Javert gasped, “You there! Watch the prisoners!” The men disappeared down into the tunnel. 

As soon as the coast was clear, the criminals knocked out the guard and cut themselves loose.

“We’ll catch up with Montparnasse, then we’ll get the crown,” Guelemer said to the others, and they nodded in agreement.


	6. Chapter 6

Down in the tunnel, Montparnasse and Jehan were well on their way out. “So, you certainly told them who was boss,” Montparnasse complimented Jehan.

Jehan nodded excitedly. “I know!” he then realized that wasn’t how he wanted it to sound, so he tried again more calmly, “I know.” Montparnasse grinned. “Hey Montparnasse? Where are you from?”

“Whoa, Flower, I don’t do backstory, however I’m getting increasingly interested in yours.” 

Jehan began walking backwards to see his friend better. Montparnasse grabbed his shoulders and turned him the proper way before he walked into a skeleton. 

“Now, I know I can’t ask about the mother,” Jehan shook his head, “Or the hair,” he shook his head again, “Quite frankly I’m too scared to question your critter buddy--”

“He’s a chameleon,” Jehan corrected him, petting Courfeyrac’s crest, but it wasn’t the same as Combeferre doing it.

“Anyway, if you had wanted to see the lanterns so bad, why haven’t you gone before?” Montparnasse asked.

Jehan didn’t answer, just began looking at the ground, which had since begun shaking. “Montpar-” he didn’t get to finish his sentence before the guards were nearly on top of them. The pair frantically picked up Jehan’s many feet of hair, and took off running.

The tunnel opened at--as Grantaire had said--the waterworks. Bursting from a blocked-up hole came the trio of criminals. “Who’s that?” Jehan asked Montparnasse.

“They don’t like me.”

The guards came up behind them, yelling like crazy. “Who’s that?”

“They don’t like me either.” Eponine burst through the throng of guards.

“Who’s-” 

But Montparnasse interrupted. “I think it’s safe to say no one here likes me.”

Jehan tossed the frying pan to him. “Here,” and he jumped off the cliff, hanging by his hair. Eponine tried to grab him before he could get away, but just barely missed. The soldiers ran at Montparnasse, swords drawn, but he quickly smacked them upside the head with the pan.

He looked down at the innocent pan, which didn’t even have a dent in it. “Wow, I need to get myself one of these,” he said, as the last soldier aimed a sword at him. But to his surprise, it was Eponine. The pair began to duel, and Montparnasse shouted over the clanging, “You should know this is the strangest thing I’ve ever done--” he dropped the pan down, down, down into the canyon. “How about two out of three?” he suggested, but Eponine aimed the sword directly at his chest.

“Montparnasse!” Jehan shouted, throwing his hair so his friend could catch it. He did, and saluted to his dueling partner as he was swept down through the gorge. The angry criminals swiped their swords at him, but missed.

Montparnasse couldn’t help teasing them from up above. “You should see you faces because you look--” he smacked into a pole. “--Ridiculous,” he croaked out, crawling feebly up the side.

The pair back on their feet, Eponine knocked a beam down so she could reach them. This caused water to leak from the walls. The water rising allowed for rocks to be moved, and before anyone knew it, a massive structure of stone was falling down toward the pair of renegades.

“We have to get to that exit! It’s the only way out!” Montparnasse shouted, grabbing the fallen frying pan just as the stone fell over the entrance to what was evidently a cave. Water rushed around the stone, causing the cave to quickly fill. Montparnasse dove underwater to see if there was any way out that way, and Jehan struggled to break down the ceiling. Finally, seeing as there was no way down, Montparnasse began pulling at the rocks, cutting up his hand.

“There’s no way out of this, Jehan,” he said weakly to his partner, who was tirelessly trying to pull a large stone out of the way. Finally he stopped, and the two just sat in silence, the only noise being the water filling the cave. “I’ve killed people for more of a reason than this,” Montparnasse said to no one.

“You have?” Jehan asked, and his friend nodded. “Well, if this is secret-telling time, my hair glows when I recite this certain--wait.” Realizing what he just said, he took a deep breath a recited the whole poem as fast as he could, the water going over their heads.

Thankfully, Jehan’s hair began to glow, as promised. Montparnasse almost gasped, then remembered in the nick of time that they were underwater. Back the glow of the hair, they saw a loose-looking pile of stones, and began digging desperately.

Finally, they broke through and slid gracefully down a waterfall they had accidentally created. They popped up, gasping for breath on the banks of the river.

“We made it, Montparnasse,” Jehan cheered, climbing out and beginning to wring out the long rope of hair he was dragging behind him.

“His hair glows,” Montparnasse said disbelievingly to Courfeyrac, who had calmly as anything untied himself from the hair. “Why does his hair glow? Did you see that? Or am I seeing things?”

“Montparnasse, it doesn’t just glow,” Jehan replied, pulling him out of the water. He began wrapping up his cut hand in the golden locks. He recited the poem again, then yanked the hair off and let his patient look at his hand. “Just don’t freak out.”

It was good that Jehan said this, because Montparnasse was almost to scream in shock. His hand, which had been cut up and injured, was now in full working order, looking as good as new. “Aah-what? I’m not freaked out, are you freaked out? No, I was just… curious about the magical properties and how long has it been doing that exactly?”

Jehan giggled nervously. “Forever, I think. Madame says that when I was a baby people tried to cut it, but if you do that, then it turns dull blonde and loses its powers.” He pulled his hair to the side, where a small bit had been attempted. “So that’s why…” he couldn’t finish.

“You never left that tower,” Montparnasse finished. Jehan nodded. “And you’re still going to go back?”

“No!” Jehan said, startling himself, Montparnasse, and Courfeyrac. “Yes?” Losing confidence in himself, he buried his face in his hands. “It’s complicated.” He sat like that for a moment, then sat himself upright where they had sat down together on a log. “So, Montparnasse, you say you’ve killed people?”

“Yeah, only a few, and they deserved it. And I stole to keep myself alive. And for a bonus,” he added, gesturing to his expensive coat, pants, and top hat, which he had meticulously cleaned after the water.

“Why do you wear a top hat?” Jehan asked, picking up the hat and setting it on his own head.

“Why not wear a top hat?” Montparnasse replied. “I should get some firewood, it’s getting dark.”

Jehan watched him walk away, feeling an embarrassed smile on his face. “Well! I thought that he would never leave!” A voice called from behind him. He whipped around, face-to-face with Madame Thenardier.

“Madame? What are you doing here?” Jehan asked, clearly startled from the surprise.

Madame put her arms around Jehan in a seemingly maternal manner. “Oh, I just found the scent of complete and utter betrayal and followed that.” She gestured to the criminals in the woods--who had, hearing that finding Jehan would get them revenge on Montparnasse, decided to help her--back into the dark where they had been quietly been moving closer.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Madame, I didn’t mean to offend you. But I’ve seen so much, I’d like to stay out here a while. I even met someone, and…” he blushed. “I think he likes me.”

“Likes you? Please, Jehan, that is messed up. What do you think he sees in you? Come home, You know, Madame knows--”

“No!” Jehan yelped defensively. “I’m to stay out of that tower until tomorrow!”

Madame glared at him for a moment. “No? Oh, I see how it is. Jehan knows best, he knows that his little flamboyant boyfriend won’t leave him, even though he’s only here for this.” At these words, Madame revealed the satchel containing the crown and threw it at Jehan.

“How did you find this? I thought I hid it well enough,” Jehan stammered in shock, getting more and more agitated by the encounter.

“If you think he’s here for you, then try giving him this. I can guarantee you he’ll leave you, And if that is the case, don’t come crying to me about it.” With that, she disappeared into the growing darkness, leaving Jehan alone and slightly scared. 

He deposited the bag in a tree root then resumed his seat on the log. 

Just as he was, Montparnasse turned up with a large pile of firewood. “Hey, Flower, do you know if that hair of yours can make one have superhuman strength? Because that would be stupendous,” he laughed, struggling with the load. Upon seeing Jehan’s face, however, he stopped. “Are you okay?”

“What? Yes! Just… lost in thought,” Jehan replied, glancing back at the root.

Montparnasse studied him for a moment, then resumed his speech. “I mean, superhuman good looks, come on, I’ve always been hot, but superhuman strength could be very helpful.” 

Jehan laughed nervously, glancing back into the woods where he could almost swear he saw Madame’s penetrating eyes glaring at him.


	7. Chapter 7

“So, I think I’m supposed to tie you up before we go to sleep,” Jehan proposed to Montparnasse when it got too late for the both of them. He took a section of his hair, wrapped it around Montparnasse’s waist, then tied it into a knot.

“You know, that’s a really easy knot for me to untie,” Montparnasse said, stretching out on the ground, using his arms as a pillow behind his head, and closing his eyes. There was an exasperated grunt then he was jolted to consciousness again by Jehan flopping on top of him.

“There, problem solved,” Jehan snapped, pulling his hair up around himself and his prisoner as a blanket. Courfeyrac perched on Montparnasse’s nose, then decided that was uncomfortable, so he moved to his usual spot on Jehan’s shoulder. Montparnasse was greatly confused, and it took him awhile, but eventually he did fall asleep.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------

Montparnasse awoke to be now on top of Jehan by getting water dripped on his face. “Guys, you know I use the waterproof stuff now after your joke,” he muttered, opening his eyes. Eponine was leaning down, her nose inches from his own. “Well, I hope you’re here to apologize.”

Jehan was jolted awake to Montparnasse screaming as he was dragged off by the boot by Eponine. “Whoa! Chaval, relax, it’s okay, steady, settle down!” He said to Eponine, as he frantically tried to pry Montparnasse from her grasp. Finally, her grip on his toes slackened, and the pair of humans went flying backward, Montparnasse without a boot.

“Hey, chaval, it’s okay, easy, It’s all right. We’re not going to hurt you,” Jehan said coaxingly, approaching Eponine. “Can I have the boot please?” 

After some resistance, Eponine dropped the boot obediently. 

“Oh, who’s a good girlie? You’re such a good girl--” Jehan peeked under her chin at the nameplate “--Eponine, oh, what a pretty name! So poetic.” He petted her head and she nuzzled her head against his shoulder.

“You’ve got to be kidding, she’s a bad horse!” Montparnasse stammered, mouth gaping open.

“No, I don’t think she gets appreciated enough. She needs a good person,” Jehan retorted calmly, continuing to pet Eponine’s mane. “Okay, now that we’re friends, I need to ask you a favor.” He led Eponine over to where Montparnasse was sitting, and handed him his boot. “I need you to not get him arrested today.” 

Eponine snorted in distaste. 

“Just for today, then you two can chase each other into the sunset, I just kind of need him right now.”

Montparnasse stood up. He was willing to make a truce for a day, just so he could get a break from being followed everywhere. He held up his hand, as if expecting to shake hands with a horse. She turned away, wanting more than anything to get him arrested right then and there.

“It’s also my birthday, not to swing you either way,” Jehan added casually, turning to dust some dirt off Montparnasse’s shoulder. She sighed, then held up her hoof, and they shook. It was then that Jehan realized that, through the trees, the kingdom was visible. He walked away from the pair, dumbfounded. As soon as Jehan was a safe distance away, Eponine kicked Montparnasse right in between the legs.

“Ow!” he yelped, falling background, and Eponine whinnied her approval, heading off to follow Jehan.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------

In town, Jehan ran into a minor complication--his hair was trailing behind him, getting stepped on, tripped over, and tangled up into a mess. Montparnasse helped him carry it, but that wasn’t going to work for long. Then Montparnasse noticed Cosette and Azelma sewing over in a corner, looking incredibly bored.

“Hello, ladies,” he greeted them smoothly, “You look bored.”

“We are,” Cosette confirmed, “we’ve been doing this all day, and just a little change would be lovely.”

“Well, my--uh--friend here has a lot of hair that could use some festive braiding for the Prince’s birthday celebration.”

“Oh! We can help!” Azelma volunteered, taking the pile from him and started to comb it with her fingers. Cosette took the other pile and they set to work. In no time, they had his hair braided, covered in flowers.

“Oh, thank you both so much!” Jehan thanked them, trying to see the braid, but not able to turn around enough. “How does it look?”

Montparnasse, leaning against a fountain, glanced up at him. “You look very nice, Flower.” But he felt more meaning behind the statement than was conveyed. 

Nonetheless, Jehan blushed, finally seeing himself in the water of the fountain.

The small group went through the day, joining people in the festivities, though Montparnasse and Eponine kept getting into fights, Courfeyrac just had to glare at them and they instantly stopped. There were guards everywhere, just to make sure nothing got out of hand, but the drunkest--which would be Grantaire--weren’t that kind of drunk. The guards were also on a lookout for Montparnasse. They weren’t going to let him get away with his kind of criminal record. Luckily, Eponine was still holding true to her promise and not letting him get caught.

They walked past a mural of the royal family, and Jehan tugged Montparnasse’s sleeve gently. “Who’s that?”

“That? The little baby? That’s the prince. He went missing when he was about that age, and his birthday would be today. That’s why they’re having this big party. They’re still hoping he’ll turn up,” Montparnasse explained indifferently. Jehan nodded, and they continued going.

The whole day was fun, but the constant looking for guards was bothering Montparnasse more than usual. He just wanted to spend the day partying like everyone else, and he had something he wanted to do. Finally he just pulled Jehan into an alcove of a building away, and shoved a small package into his hand. 

“Here, figured since it’s your birthday too, I’m supposed to give you something.” He looked away sheepishly.

“Oh, thank you,” Jehan said excitedly, opening a small poetry book by a local poet. He hugged Montparnasse tightly. His companion stiffened, not because he bothered by the hug, but because he was actually enjoying it.

“I actually paid for that, to give you an idea of how much trouble I put into it,” Montparnasse added as they left the alcove to rejoin the party.


	8. Chapter 8

“Come on, join me!” Jehan called out to Montparnasse as people grouped together to dance in the square.

“No, Flower, I don’t dance, not a chance, I have a reputation around here,” He argued, leaning back against a cart.

“I say you can, just go with it!” Jehan started dancing in a circle awkwardly. “I’m not that good either.”

“Now, I didn’t say I was bad, just said I didn’t want to,” Montparnasse retorted, and as a response, Eponine pushed him off the cart and right in the middle of the square and straight into Jehan. 

“Oh, so you decided to join me,” Jehan commented, taking Montparnasse’s hand and putting his other hand on his waist, guiding him awkwardly around the other dancers. Eventually their good luck ran out and they danced right into a young couple who took one look at Montparnasse’s disorganized footwork and Jehan’s purple dress and walked away quickly. Jehan looked at his companion, who was now diverting his eyes from his. “What was their problem?”

Montparnasse shrugged, just as a man shouted, “To the boats for excellent viewing of the floating lanterns!” Everyone cheered. Though it was sad that the prince had been kidnapped and was never found, everyone looked forward to the lanterns.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------

Eponine looked rejected as Jehan, Montparnasse, and Courfeyrac got into a small rowboat at the edge of the harbor. “Oh, almost forgot about that. Here you go,” Montparnasse tossed her a bag of apples. She looked at him suspiciously. “What? I bought them.” Eponine looked back at the apples, then decided there was no harm and began eating the feast. As they pulled out of their spot, Montparnasse called back, “Most of them.”

“So, where are we going?” Jehan asked, getting slightly nervous about this odd boat ride, especially after Madame Thenardier’s threats.

“Well, you’ve wanted to see these forever, so I thought you’d like a decent spot to see it,” Montparnasse explained, letting Courfeyrac sit on a pile of rope, which appeared to be comfortable to its small passenger.

Jehan looked out into the open water at the reflection of the kingdom. It was only them out here. “What if it isn’t what I thought it would be?”

“It will be,” Montparnasse assured him, in a much gentler tone than usual. It surprised him as much as Jehan.

“And if it is? I’ve wanted this my whole life. What do I do now?” Jehan found himself moving closer to his companion, maybe out of being nervous in the open.

“Well… you get to find a new dream, right? That should be interesting, right?” Montparnasse answered, but it was possible that Jehan did not hear, because right then the first lantern was released into the air. 

He gasped, sitting forward so suddenly he almost tipped the boat. The small yellow glow was joined by more and more of them, until the world seemed to be engulfed in light. Jehan was looking around at everything, wanting to see the whole experience at once, and Montparnasse watched him with a small grin on his face. 

He felt a small tug inside of him, realizing he had never seen anyone through their first anything like this. He then noticed a pair of lanterns floating down by the water. He had meant to get some lanterns for two of them, but hadn’t been able to find a place that still had them. He lifted the lanterns into the small boat, and nudged Jehan gently. He had never been compelled to be gentle with anyone or anything in his life.

“You want to get these up?” He asked. Jehan’s eyes lit up, and he nodded. As the lanterns lifted up into the sky, Montparnasse felt a wave of emotion as Jehan looked him in the eyes and hugged him as tight as when he got the gift.

Suddenly he pulled away. “Oh! I have something for you too.” He dug around behind him and came up with the bag with the crown still inside. “I would’ve given it to you earlier, but I was still a little nervous you’d leave me. I really wanted to thank you so much for this. I know it’s such a small thing for everyone else, but it’s much bigger for me. You know what I mean?”

Montparnasse smiled and set the bag aside. “Yes, I do know. Thanks for the payment.” He could feel the feeling growing inside of him. He looked at Jehan contentedly, admiring that, despite his odd dress, Jehan was beautiful to him. “You look very nice.”

Jehan blushed and looked at his lap. “You look very nice too.” He glanced up, and the two of them smiled at each other. Montparnasse reached out to take Jehan in a hug, but Jehan was a little nervous, so at first he moved away. But the second try, Montparnasse was able to pull Jehan very close to him in a hug-like move. Courfeyrac had been watching the two of them, but at this point, he decided it would be best if he didn’t watch.

Jehan rested his head on Montparnasse’s shoulder and closed his eyes. It had been a few days since he had felt so at home. Montparnasse hugged him against himself, wanting more than anything to kiss his partner, as little as he wanted to admit it out loud, then realized they were being watched. Off on land, the three dreaded criminals were holding up a lantern as if they were waiting for him.

Montparnasse sat Jehan upright, and Jehan asked, “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, yes, everything’s fine,” Montparnasse assured him, but he sounded preoccupied by something else as he began to vivaciously row toward the dark side of the shore. He kept saying this as they went along, but Jehan was becoming less and less sure this was true.

“I’m so sorry, Flower, I just… have something I need to take care of,” Montparnasse explained, grabbing the satchel off the seat next to Jehan. He waited for Jehan to respond. 

Jehan studied his face for a moment, then responded, “Okay.”

Montparnasse disappeared into the mist, leaving Jehan alone. “Hey, guys,” he said, seeing the three criminals sitting around a dying campfire, whittling sticks intimidatingly, “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” He pulled the bag out so they could see it and tossed it to Claquesous. “I wanted to tell you that it was fun working with you guys, I’ll miss you, you can have the crown, but I think it’s for the best-” he turned around and bumped into Guelemer.

“We don’t want the crown anymore.” Babet walked slowly toward Montparnasse, who Guelemer had his arms pinned behind this back. “We want the boy.”


	9. Chapter 9

Jehan sat patiently in the boat, waiting for Montparnasse to get back. Courfeyrac was showing the anticipation he was feeling. 

“It’ll be okay, Courfeyrac. He’ll be back, he promised.” A shadow finally began moving toward them. “See? There he is.” He called out to his friend, “I was starting to think you ran off with the bag and left me.” He laughed nervously. Then his laughter faded. The shadow turned to two, then to three.

“He did,” Claquesous rumbled. Jehan felt a shiver run down his spine. A twig snapped behind him.

“No, Montparnasse wouldn’t leave us to fend for ourselves,” he retorted, more to convince himself than to convince these terrifying men before him.

“I thought it was a pretty fair trade,” Babet laughed, “A crown for the little boy with magic healing hair.”

“I’m not little,” Jehan argued, “I think I’m older than he is. But he wouldn’t sell me off just like that.”

“See for yourself,” No one could be sure which of these men this haunting voice came from, but Jehan looked out on the horizon, and he began shaking his head over and over again, trying to see how that silhouette in the boat couldn’t have been his friend. Montparnasse was sailing away, both hands on the wheel, not even looking back at him.

The men made a sudden move behind him, and he jumped out of the way just as a sack came on the spot where he had just been standing. “Please! Somebody! Help me!” Jehan shouted, trying to run as fast as he could away. He could hear snapping and cracking right behind him.

“Jehan?” came the familiar voice. Jehan stopped and turned around slowly. “Are you here?”

“Madame?” He came around the corner, and there she was, brandishing a stick over the three still bodies of the criminals on the ground. “Oh, you’re here,” he raced over and hugged her. “You were right about everything.”

“Come on, Jehan, let’s go home,” Madame said softly, taking his hair in her hands for a moment, as if that alone would give her youth back, then gestured for him to follow her into the woods. Jehan looked out one last time at the dim shadow of his betraying friend, then followed Madame into the darkness.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------

Montparnasse woke up groggily. He was tied to something, it felt like a pole or something. He opened his eyes, and the royal castle was right in front of him. He turned his head, and he was, in fact, tied to a pole, the pole holding up the sail on a small boat.

“Wait, where’s-oh no. Jehan!” he shouted, feeling panic rising in his body. “Jehan! Flower! Where are you?” 

Javert was standing on the edge of the pier, looking out into the mist, considering what to do about the specifically troubling prisoner, numbered 24601, when he saw Montparnasse sailing over, tied to the boat. He knew what the thief looked like, and he quickly summoned his men to take him in. But he couldn’t understand why the young culprit was shouting over and over like a madman, “Jehan! Jehan! Flower!”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------

Jehan sat on his bed next to Madame, who was spending her time running her fingers through his hair and pulling all the flowers out, leaving it long and unorganized as usual. Jehan was looking sadly into his lap, trying to remember any sign Montparnasse had given that he wanted to leave him. He honestly thought Montparnasse could have left at any point in the journey, but he never did. But he didn’t have the crown. Now that he did, he could run off and do whatever he wanted.

“There,” Madame said, plucking the last bloom from Jehan’s hair, “It never happened. Now, get ready for dinner. I’m making soup.” When she heard no reply, she turned around. Jehan hadn’t even heard her. His first person friend in the world had left him. “I tried to tell you, Flower, the world wants to destroy any ray of sunshine it finds.” she turned and left to go work on supper.

Jehan leaned back on the bed, feeling his heart breaking every time he breathed. In his hands, he had been holding the poetry book Montparnasse had given him, opened to “Devotion.” He read the poem quietly to himself and Courfeyrac, who was also saddened by the abandonment that had just occurred.

“The heart can think of no devotion,  
Greater than being shore to the ocean-  
Holding the curve of one position,  
Counting endless repetition.”

He sighed, thinking about how he had really felt devoted to Montparnasse. He hadn’t wanted to separate himself from him for one instant of their journey together. If Montparnasse wanted to come back and fix things--Jehan would’ve given the world for that to happen--he would take him back no matter what. He examined the other poems, then realized… he signed his poetry just like the poets in the book did. He stood up in surprise, suddenly remembering a far-off memory of when he was about six months old, with his parents… but they weren’t Madame. They looked like--Jehan fell over backward. “My parents are the king and queen!” Courfeyrac’s eyes went wide. The crown had fit him so perfectly, it had to be.

Madame heard the crash off Jehan falling into the dresser, and walked worriedly up the stairs. “Jehan? Are you alright?”

Jehan stumbled out of his room. “I’m the prince,” he stammered, holding onto the doorway for support.

“What did you say, Flower--” Madame started, then Jehan interrupted her, “I am the prince, aren’t I, Madame?”

Madame was silent for a moment, then began laughing nervously. “What? Where on earth did you get your crazy ideas from?” She turned back to go down the stairs, muttering to herself, “Probably from that criminal. Good thing he’s going to be hanged for his crimes.”

Jehan grabbed her arm. “What do you mean? You had something to do with it, didn’t you? You made him leave me.” His face crumpled, tears beginning fresh on his cheeks. “He’s going to die?”

Madame reached out to him, saying in soothing voice, “Now, Flower, listen. Things are as they should be--”

“No!” Jehan grabbed her wrists, trying to hold her away from him but keep her restrained at the same time. “You were wrong about everything! All this time I’ve been hiding from the world, people who would use me, when it was you all along who used me! I should’ve been hiding from you!” Madame fought Jehan hard, but he wasn’t letting go. “And I will never let you use my hair again!”

Finally Madame yanked free, hitting against a mirror. The mirror fell to the ground and shattered into large shards. She looked down at the broken glass, then back up to Jehan, who was walking away. “You want me to be the bad guy, Jehan? Fine. Now I’m the bad guy…”


	10. Chapter 10

In his jail cell, Montparnasse was pacing back and forth, trying to think of some way to break out. He didn’t know what had happened to Jehan, or Courfeyrac, and he knew he had to find them and get them safe. The cell door clanged open, and in walked Javert with a small group of men.

“Let’s get this over with,” Javert said to him.

Montparnasse frowned. “Where are we going?” Javert glared at him. “Oh.”

The men grabbed him, and for once he put up no resistance. As they walked down the hall, however, he noticed three familiar faces in a cell. Three that he could ask about Jehan. He slammed his body into the walls, knocking out the guards holding him, but he knew he didn’t have much time. He grabbed Guelemer by the collar and yanked him close. “Tell me where Jehan is. Now,” he growled.

Guelemer looked slightly intimidated for once in his life at this young man glaring down at him. “It wasn’t us. It was that lady we were working for.”

Montparnasse thought for a moment. “Lady?” His eyes widened in realization. “She’s not a lady, Guelemer! She’s a crazy witch!” 

At this moment, the guards regained their hold on his arms and dragged him further down the hall. In a window, Montparnasse could see the noose hanging off the gallows outside. He shuddered. A bottle was sitting on the windowsill. By just walking past it, one would come to the conclusion that the bottle was full of some form of alcohol. But this did not comfort Montparnasse in any way.

They were just about to pass into the room where the criminal was to be laid to rest when the door slammed shut. Javert banged on it, barking, “Open up in there! We have a prisoner to dispatch!”

After a few seconds, the window opened and Bahorel looked down at the group with a slightly confused expression on his face. “What’s the password?” He asked, evidently leaning on the door, causing it to squeak. 

“Open this door!” Javert shouted.

“Not even close,” Feuilly’s voice called from further inside the room.

“I will give you--dare I call you-gentlemen--three seconds. One-” A man disappeared from Montparnasse’s left. “Two-” the man on is right was pulled out the window by some unknown figure. Javert turned around to look and see what was making those stifled yelps and excessive clanking. “Three-” 

The door swung open, and Bossuet swung at Javert with a large black item, and with a clank he fell to the floor senseless. 

“I did it! I didn’t miss this time!” He cheered.

“Why were we all piled in there again?” Joly asked as the four of them filed out, “Do you know how many diseases we’ve spread around that room alone?"

“Frying pans! Who would’ve guessed?” Montparnasse exclaimed as the two others untied his wrists. Suddenly the door at the other end of the hallway flung open, and several more guards raced towards them.

Feuilly and Bahorel ran towards them, screaming like they had lost their minds, while the other three took off in the other direction.

When they got to the courtyard, the rest of L’ABC had met up and were trying to fight off the guards who had gotten there before Montparnasse had.

Enjolras grabbed his shoulders and yanked him onto a cart. “You ever used escape tactics like these?” Montparnasse shook his head. “That’s because we’re making this up as we go. Now tuck your arms in, put your head down, and spread your legs out, and you should be fine.”

“What about you guys?” he asked. He had never asked this of anyone.

“Our lives don’t mean anything. Just go,” Enjolras replied, making a gesture over Montparnasse’s head.

Montparnasse came to realize that he had said to spread his legs apart just as Grantaire jumped over the side of the balcony, landing on the other end of the cart. Montparnasse went flying up, up, up, screaming as he went, then found himself perfectly seated in the saddle of Eponine.

“You saved me,” he gasped, still trying to regain his sanity after the flying. She nodded. “Thank you,” he continued genuinely. She shrugged. “No, really. I feel like all this time we’ve misunderstood each other and-” he caught the glare Eponine was giving him that meant, 'If you continue on this long sappy rambling, I will boot you off your escape ride,' he stopped. “Yeah, we should just go.”

And not a moment too soon. Exploding from a door that no ever noticed were--what else?--even more guards. Anyone could’ve told Montparnasse that the kingdom had an infinite supply of guards. And he would have readily believed it. 

Eponine took off running straight through the guards, plowing over the edge of the wall. They landed on the roof of a small house, and tore down half the tiling sliding down it. Eponine had never run after in her life, but something in her gut told her that this wasn’t for Montparnasse. This was for Jehan.

The pair zoomed through the kingdom, and through the woods. Finally, ripping through a tangle of ivy, the tower was in view.

Montparnasse jumped off and shouted from the ground and shouted, “Flower! Jehan! Let down your hair!” After several terrifying seconds of silence, a long tendril of blond hair was flung out the window to him. Montparnasse began climbing the hair as quickly as he could. He had to make sure Jehan was okay, and to get him out of that tower.

As he clamored in through the window, he saw Jehan sitting in front of him. “Jehan! Oh man, I thought I’’d never see you again-” he was cut off by the sudden realization that Jehan was gagged and bound on the floor, and screaming something at him from under the handkerchief in his mouth. He figured out what he was saying just as a long blade was stabbed into Montparnasse’s stomach. He let out an involuntary cry of pain, curling up on the floor, trying to stop the bleeding. Jehan was struggling to get over to him, when Madame stepped out from behind Montparnasse, yanking the knife from the body writhing on the floor.

She stepped over to her prisoner and grabbed the rope attached to his wrists. “Now look what’s happened, Jehan. You won’t need to worry about him anymore. Now, we’ll be going off to a place where no one will ever find you again.” She pulled the loose tile from the floor, revealing a trapdoor to the outside world. Madame began yanking at Jehan’s lead, but Jehan was shouting and struggling to kick her as she dragged him over to the hole. 

Courfeyrac raced over and tried to pull Madame the other way by her skirt, but he was too small, and when Madame noticed, she kicked him into the wall, knocking the wind out of him. “Stop fighting me!”

“No!” Jehan yelled, spitting the handkerchief from his mouth. “I won’t stop for the rest of my life trying to get away from you!” His voice became choked with a sob when he caught sight of Montparnasse still on the floor in the corner. “But if you let me save him, I will go with you, and we’ll be happy and you can use my hair whenever, and I won’t fight you anymore, and everything will be just like you want it to be. Just let me heal him.” Courfeyrac sat up, dazed. He wasn’t sure if he was actually haring this or he was still unconscious.

Montparnasse was dying, but he was still fully awake. “No. Jehan, don’t do this, please,” he begged, feeling the life leaving him every second that passed.

Madame decided that this was a fair enough deal, so she untied Jehan and now tied Montparnasse by the wrist to the staircase. “In case you have any ideas of finding out where we are,” she explained to him, shoving Jehan towards him to do what he said he would do.

“Montparnasse!” Jehan cried, hurrying to him as quickly as he could.   
Montparnasse kept pushing him away, coughing, “No, I don’t consent to medical treatment.”

“But you’re hurt, and I can help you, and everything’s going to be okay. I can’t let you die, Montparnasse,” he said softly.

“But if you go, you’ll die,” Montparnasse was losing focus in his eyes. There were now two towers, two Jehans, and two impatient Madames, and he couldn’t decide which one was more of a problem to him.

“Hush, it’s going to be fine,” Jehan assured him, bending down to kiss his forehead. 

As he did this, Montparnasse seized the hair from behind Jehan neck and with one swift motion, it was lying on the floor.

“Montparnasse, what did you do?” Jehan gasped, feeling behind his head for the familiar weight, but there was one. 

Madame shrieked, “What have you done? What have you done?” She grabbed at the loose hair on the floor desperately, but it was quickly turning from golden blond to a reddish blond. As she grabbed the discolored hair, her features possessed by her as a young woman quickly faded to reveal the thousands of years the flower had preserved her. She stumbled around the room, losing strength. When she got close to the window, Courfeyrac pulled the loose hair so it worked like a tripwire, and Madame fell out of the window with a dying scream. 

Then it was silent.

Jehan watched this unfold with widened eyes, then quickly turned back to her friend. “Montparnasse? Montparnasse, don’t you dare die on me. You are not allowed to die-” he lifted his limp hand and pressed it to his now reddish hair and tried to recite the poem again, but was too choked up for any of the words to be recognizable.

Montparnasse opened his eyes slightly. “Jehan,” he whispered, not strong enough for anything more, “It’s not going to work. I’m as good as dead now. Go out and find your family.”

“I am not giving up until you are okay and can walk around this room,” Jehan announced, then crumpled to the floor again with his face in his hands. “I can’t get out of this tower without you, I won’t leave you!”

“Flower.” His friend said this with such gentleness he looked up. “You were my new dream. I know that sounds stupid, but it wouldn’t kill me to say something stupid now. And for once in my life I tell the truth. Someone help me,” he laughed weakly.

“If we’re telling each other stupid things, then I should tell you that you were my new dream too,” Jehan whispered as Montparnasse’s eyes closed for the last time.  
For the longest time, Jehan sat on the floor with Montparnasse’s head in his lap, pushing his hair away from his face. While he did this, he said the chant for the last time. He understood what it meant now.

“Nature’s first green is gold,  
Her hardest hue to hold,  
Her early leaf’s a Flower,  
But only so an hour,  
Then leaf subsides to leaf,  
So Eden sank to grief,  
So dawn goes down to day,  
Nothing Gold Can Stay.”

At this last line, Jehan voice failed him, and he bent over the body of his friend and let himself cry onto his jacket. He’d probably have a fit if he did it while he was alive, but he wasn’t alive to complain. The tears soaked through the jacket and onto the wound. The last bit of magic left in Jehan was in these last tears. They began to glow under the coat, causing Jehan to sit up and stare at the glowing spot on his deceased friend’s body. After the glowing faded away, He looked into Montparnasse’s face. He felt some hope, feeling foolish as he did, but he still hoped.

Montparnasse’s green eyes opened to slits. “Jehan,” he said softly. He reached up to touch the remains of Jehan’s hair. “Why did I cut it off like that? There isn’t enough to do anything with, but it doesn’t look good how it is. Courfeyrac, is this what you call a haircut?” Courfeyrac, after recovering from the initial shock of a dead person speaking, shook his head aggressively. “Maybe add some flowers or something-?”

He didn’t get the chance to finish the sentence. Jehan had tackled him to the ground and was currently covering Montparnasse’s face in kisses.

“Whoa, Flower, just because someone came back from the dead does not mean that they don’t have to breathe too,” Montparnasse laughed, playfully pushing Jehan off of him. He couldn’t loosen the hugs, though. Jehan had a firm grip on him there. “Aw, who’s happy that I’m back?”

Jehan caught a glance of himself in the broken mirror. “Wow. I don’t look too great,” he laughed nervously, looking down into his lap in embarrassment.

“We can fix that,” Montparnasse assured him, standing up, “We need to great you ready to meet your parents.”


	11. Fin

The next morning, The pair walked into the town, and ran into Combeferre. They didn’t realize it was him until Courfeyrac’s head turned and he started wagging his tail like a dog.

“You want to go see him?” Jehan asked, and Courfeyrac shrugged, turning a violent shade of red. “Okay, if you want to see him, we’ll go over and say hello.”

The visiting ended up leaving Courfeyrac with Combeferre while the other two went off toward the castle to get the job done.

“You’ll stay, right, Montparnasse?” Jehan asked as they were led through a series of rooms in the castle. Montparnasse pulled his hat over his face so no one could recognize him.

He turned to face his friend, whose eyes were glowing at him with an increasingly nervous energy. “Flower,” he said slowly, “I can’t stay here. I’ll get arrested and then be back at square one. I’ve got to stay on the run.”

“But you don’t have to. I can ask my parents if they’ll let you get not wanted,” Jehan offered.

“They don’t give pardons to the murderers, Jehan.” They came to a balcony, where the butler left them.

“Just please, please, please don’t go away! You’re the only human I actually know, and I love you so much!” Jehan begged, feeling his eyes filling with tears again.

Montparnasse looked at him gently. His hair was even shorter now, still strawberry-blond, with a crown of blue flowers. “You don’t love me, Jehan. It seems like it, but you don’t.”

“Don’t tell me that,” Jehan grumbled, “Madame told me that. But I know I do love you.”

“Hey, Jehan,” he said, changing the subject, “I’ve got something for you.” He reached into his coat pocket, pulled out a small leather bag, and from that removed the crown.

“Why are you giving me this?” Jehan asked as Montparnasse placed the crown inside the ring of flowers.

“It’s yours. Now, don’t you look pretty?” Montparnasse smiled, and the door swung open, and the queen and king raced in, then stopped in front of them. Jehan stepped forward nervously.

The queen approached him, and looked into his eyes. She hugged him tightly. “Jehan, you’re home.” The king came over, and the three of them were hugging. 

Montparnasse stood behind them, watching. He hadn’t known a good family, and it always made him feel awkward when he did see a happy family.

Jehan pulled away from his parents, and gestured to Montparnasse. “This gentleman brought me back here.”

Montparnasse, on the other hand, looked like he had been caught, then decided he might as well accept his fate. He bowed, removing his hat, allowing the royals to see his face. ‘Montparnasse, at your disposal.” A smirk of sorts spread across his face.

The queen, to his surprise, hugged him as well. “You brought our baby home to us. You are completely pardoned.” Montparnasse squirmed. It even felt awkward to receive familial gestures.

“I am?” He squeaked.

“He is?” The king agreed. The queen turned to him with a death glare. “Okay, fine, he’s pardoned.”

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

So after that, there was a big celebration celebrating the return of the prince; though he preferred the term royal child or, even better, just Jehan. 

He was an excellent leader, and he eventually convinced the other royals to work to make the kingdom a republic, as Enjolras had told him he wanted. Now that the kingdom was better run, Enjolras had other things to think about.

“Grantaire, I need to talk to you,” he said, walking over to Grantaire, who, as usual, was sipping an unhealthy amount of liquor.

“I want to to talk to you, too,” Grantaire replied, staggering as he stood up to face him. The two men took a deep breath.

“I love you,” they both said in unison, then stared at each other. “What?”

Joly did get to become as doctor, the best of the town; and Musichetta and Bossuet and him all were able to be happily married together; and Feuilly and Bahorel did get to help many an orphan. 

Courfeyrac ended up staying with Combeferre, who was able to write a bestselling philosophical book. 

Marius finally met Cosette, and they were very happy together, and adopted Eponine, and they enjoyed each other’s company. She became the head of the police, and crime almost disappeared, with the exception of Montparnasse.

Montparnasse, he restricted his thievery to one theft a week, and never above the value of one thousand napoleons, which he thought wasn’t bad. He also decided that it would be best to give up murder, at least for a little while.

The big remaining question remaining is, did Jehan and Montparnasse get married? Well, after years and years of Jehan asking--okay, so it was Montparnasse who asked--he finally said yes. And, as always, they lived happily ever after.


End file.
